Years ago my mum and me visited the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. We conquered the long lines and came back out deeply, deeply impressed. My mum and me, who always have something to say to each other, were lost for words. We just sat on a nearby park bench, let out deep sighs and swallowed what we couldn't say. That is exactly how I felt when visiting Soweto and Apartheidmuseum in South-Africa. I felt like this the whole day. I was stumped for words and the experiences of the day left me very emotoinal. I knew for sure I lost my heart.

Soweto is a huge quarter of Johannesburg. Well, to be honest. With 5 milion inhabitants it could be a city in itsself. Soweto is called a 'township', now when you hear this you may think of poverty and people living in shacks. This is only partly true. Soweto exists of many neighbourhoods, some poor, some middle class and some even rich. The great thing is that all these neighbourhoods work together and can be devided by just a simple gasstation. This mix of neighbourhoods and classes makes Soweto so colourful and therefor definately with exploring.

Also, Soweto is the political conciense and beating heart of South-Africa. The freedom fighters, like Nelson Mandela, lived here, the famous student riots took place here and this is the place where Desmond Tuto pleated forgiveness and peace. You can visit the old house of Nelson Mandela, the famous Regina Mundi Church and the Hector Pieterson Museum. In the latter you'll learn more about the 1976 student riots. Back then thousands of school kids and uni students protested because the government decided schools were allowed to teach in Afrikaans only. It was a peaceful protest, but the police chased down the mobs using arms. Hundreds of young kids, amongst them the 13 year old Hector Pieterson, lost their lives.

When our guide proposed to visit a shanti-town in Kliptown, I had to take a deep breath before I agreed. I was nervous and I have to admit: I was prejudiced too! Because, these people have nothing and compared to them I must look like a walking ATM, right? I was wrong, and not a little bit! The children that followed us around never asked for candy or money. They wanted to hug us or hold our hands, tough our hair. People from all around the neighbourhood, introduced themselves, offered us a drink or some food and asked us so many questions. Did I feel safe? Oh yes I did!In my head I had a little conflict though, 'cause I honestly feel that people shouldn't live in shacks without basic things like running water and electricity, no family of 8 should live in a shack of 10 m². I feel that every person deserves something better than this. However, I wonder if these people would move on to something better, would they lose their generosity, curiosity and impartiality? What would the price they pay for getting richer?

At the end of the day we visited the Apartheid Museum and I have to say that I was even more impressed by this than I was with the Anne Frank House, so that says something. A fantastic exhibit about the introduction, execution and abolition of Apartheid. And an amzing exhobit about the life of Nelson Mandela. What struck me most was the line near to the museum entrence. 'This is where Apartheid belongs: in a museum'.
Wil je meer weten? Bekijk dan alle informatie over Johannesburg en De kleuren van Soweto. (Je kunt onder mijn reisblog ook comments achterlaten als je dat leuk lijkt).

You know, there's so much to say. But one needs a visit to Soweto or similar to really understand you own privileges. One must be an extremely hard person not to understand that our own little miseries are luxury to others. Living in South Africa keeps my feet firmly on the ground, because there are so many checks and balances. On the one side you see luxury and privilege, on the other - people who walk 8 km, carrying a jerry can with water to their home; I have three toilets in the house, others do their ablutions in the veld, in this year of 2014.

I had the privilege of working in rural Limpopo for 5 years, and that really opened my eyes further. I saw women still going bare-breasted, because that's their tradition. I saw children running away from me, because they have not ever seen a white woman before, or screaming, because they thought I must be police (my white pick-up truck). I've been to villages with no electricity, no telephones, no running water - maybe a borehole with a hand-pump. I've experienced so much friendliness: being offered vetkoek, water, cooldrink, sitting on the mud-floors inside, people guiding me from one village to the next, a man calling me from the top of the hill (only place to get a signal) to wish me a happy Christmas, year after year - just because I once gave them advice on their community garden.

Once you have seen/experienced this, and really take it to heart, you can never look at your own life in the same way. Waiting a bit for the doctor is nothing - my gardeners wife hopes's she can see a doctor at the clinic after three days. I want to teach my kids to be mindful of what they have and experience, and share with others, and never be righteous in what they expect of life. The Apartheid Museum is on our list for the upcoming winter holidays - it is something they need to see.

This is such an insightful post. I've been reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography, and I imagine that visiting these places must be quite emotional. Soweto looks like such a colorful place, and yet there is so much poverty compared to what the rich there have. I also think Apartheid belongs in a museum, not out in the real world for people to endure.